


for me and for you

by 528loves



Series: when it's just us [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, RENSUNG SELCA [CANON COMPLIANT], jisung randomly calling renjun cute [canon compliant], many smooches, plotless established relationship rensung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23452120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/528loves/pseuds/528loves
Summary: Renjun doesn’t typically believe in happily ever afters, but he thinks he can make an exception for Jisung.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Park Jisung
Series: when it's just us [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735912
Comments: 19
Kudos: 156





	for me and for you

**Author's Note:**

> finished this fic weeks ago, today's rensung [selcas](https://twitter.com/NCTsmtown_DREAM/status/1245638442597273600) made me post it

What they have right now, between them, is still new. Barely a few months old. It blossoms like spring, makes them both cautious and curious at the same time, slow excitement curling in their stomachs as they map out their relationship hug by hug, kiss by kiss, and touch by touch. 

It also makes them do dumb things, like share lingering glances over nothing in particular and burst into fits of giggles for no apparent reason. As an added bonus, it annoys the _hell_ out of their friends, which gives Renjun a visceral sense of satisfaction mostly because Jisung always goes pink at the attention and ends up hiding his face in Renjun’s neck. And since Renjun will never pass up the opportunity to make the younger boy even more flustered, he’ll murmur to him about how cute he is, laughing at Jisung’s vehement denial as his ears go redder and redder by the minute. 

These days, there’s a quiet kind of happiness simmering in him, too. The kind that makes him wonder how it had lain dormant under his skin for so long. With the new school year comes a new routine, and Jisung drops by his apartment whenever he wants to talk—about anything and everything—which is surprisingly often, not that Renjun’s complaining. 

Sometimes, he gets to go home to Jisung, if the latter’s classes are over and he lets himself into Renjun’s apartment with his spare key. He gets to cook for them while Jisung tells him about his day and updates him on Jaemin’s latest projects; gets to watch Jisung’s eyes light up as he thanks Renjun for the food and picks up his chopsticks to dig in; gets to ruffle Jisung’s hair playfully and fake-complain about being the only functional adult in this household (even though he lives alone now).

In turn, Jisung’s bright eyes follow him through the kitchen after their meal, and what comes out of his mouth next is not excessive gratitude, nor fondness, but rather a teasing comment about how Renjun _could_ teach him to cook if only he’d overlook the fact that it’d mean mild disaster. Renjun simply snorts, telling him he’d prefer both of them to be alive at the end of the day, and grins when Jisung begrudgingly agrees. Then he pats the dish rack and beckons Jisung to help him out. 

But most importantly, before either of them start cleaning up, he pulls Jisung down by the collar to place a soft kiss on his lips, something he’s been waiting to do this entire time.

Yet Jisung is still—hesitant. So careful, in the way he kisses back, like he’s scared of making the wrong move. In the way he thaws under Renjun’s touch, the way he searches for Renjun’s mouth again after they part, the way his hands tentatively brush the hem of Renjun’s shirt before resting gently on his waist, the faintest caress that makes Renjun suck in an involuntary breath. 

It catches him off guard, the first time it happens. 

He’s got his shoes on in the foyer, poised to leave for an evening class. He also ends up abandoning that idea as soon as Jisung shyly catches his hand and tugs him closer for a goodbye kiss. There’s a distant voice in his head informing him that Jeno will be grumpy if he doesn’t show up to claim his saved seat, but every time he tries to pull away, Jisung presses more insistently against his mouth, until Renjun can practically taste his smile against his own. 

So he swears to himself that he’ll stay for just a few more seconds. Or maybe another minute or two. Most people won’t guess this, but he’s impossibly weak for the people he loves, and one of his hands is already curling around the nape of Jisung’s neck anyways. 

He’s about two breathless kisses away from telling Jeno that he won’t be coming to class, when suddenly, something cool brushes up against his side. And he realizes two things, in this moment—one, his shirt has ridden up a bit and exposed a sliver of his skin; and two, those are _Jisung’s_ fingers absent-mindedly skimming over his waist and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 

A tiny _oh_ leaves his mouth, unbidden.

He blinks a couple of times.

He’s just surprised at the unexpectedness. Pleased, too. But then he thinks he probably shouldn’t have reacted like that, because almost as soon as it happens, Jisung is retracting his hands like he’s been scalded, eyes going wide and panicky. Renjun’s heart squeezes in his chest as apologies start tumbling out of Jisung’s mouth in a hushed, “Sorry, I’m sorry, I should’ve asked, I just thought—” 

So Renjun cuts him off with a quick shake of his head. 

“No, it’s fine. I just—your hands—” He clears his throat, a bit embarrassed. “They’re cold.” 

_And large_ , he adds silently to himself. 

“Oh.” 

Despite that, Jisung is still looking at him like he’s unsure of what to do next. Renjun sighs, trying not to knock his head against the wall in frustration. He hates that he’s the one who unintentionally put that expression on his boyfriend’s face. 

Luckily, it only takes him a few seconds of thinking before he takes Jisung’s hands and anchors them more solidly on his waist. Beaming up at him in reassurance, Renjun leans in again to murmur into his ear, “It’s fine, Jisung. Really. I guess I’ll just have to stay here to warm you up.” 

And out of everything, _that’s_ what makes Jisung finally smile at him, all sweet and innocent while he tugs him backwards into the living room as if this was his plan all along. Renjun can’t believe his eyes, but lets himself get pulled along nonetheless. 

“Soft,” Jisung mumbles against his lips. It’s an effective distraction. “Your skin…” 

His thumb sweeps across Renjun’s hip, fleeting and feather-light almost like he’s in awe of him, and Renjun does his best to hold back his laughter as he kisses Jisung in thanks for giving him an excuse to skip class. 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

He eventually takes his phone out to order pizza, ignoring Jisung’s pout. He’s pretty sure he heard Jisung’s stomach growl only a few minutes ago since the other boy was terrible at hiding it, and besides, he himself could use the energy for studying later. 

Two minutes after he hangs up the phone, Jisung retrieves his laptop from his bag and hooks it up to the TV. They pass the time by putting on a show in the background as they wait for their food to arrive, and Renjun thinks, privately, that if given the choice, he’d spend every night like this if he could. 

(Unsurprisingly, Renjun doesn’t end up studying that night. They fall asleep on the couch, his phone still left on from when he’d meant to tell Jeno he’d come to the next class even though he’d already missed the last three. There’s also leftover pizza on the table and a new movie playing on screen, but that’s something for them to deal with the next morning.)  
  


✧ ✧ ✧

There are other times, later, when Jisung actually _plans_ on staying over for the night. Nights like these are when he brings along a backpack full of clothes and toiletries that Renjun insists he doesn’t need because his apartment already has everything. 

(“Sleepover,” Jisung says the first time he slips under Renjun’s covers. There’s genuine excitement in his eyes as if they didn’t spend the last year or so living together with four other boys, and Renjun feels compelled to send him a deadpan look in response.)

Every now and then, Renjun still tries to convince Jisung to leave his things at the dorm and use some of Renjun’s belongings for a change. It’d just be easier for Jisung when he gets back home and finds nothing misplaced, and it wouldn’t be a burden on Renjun’s part at all, so he thinks it’s logical to put two and two together. 

His persuasive tactics don’t always work. But other times, he gets lucky. 

“I have my own shampoo, and you have yours,” Jisung tells him one evening, after Renjun raises an eyebrow at the tiny bottle of liquid in his hand. 

“So? Just use mine.” 

Jisung shakes his head. “But then I’ll smell like you, and I don’t want to smell like you. I want to smell like _me_ , and I want _you_ to smell like you.” 

Renjun stares at Jisung as he brushes past him, dropping his bag at the foot of his bed and flinging himself on top of Renjun’s blankets. He looks way too comfortable, surrounded by all of Renjun’s things like he belongs here, and it tugs at something yearning threadbare in Renjun’s chest. 

Then he remembers he should probably be offended. 

“Excuse me?” 

Jisung sighs. 

“Nothing, hyung. If you want, I can stop bringing my stuff here. I’ll even use your shampoo and…” He turns his head into Renjun’s pillow, breathing in deeply and mumbling his next words. “S-smell like you...” 

And, ah. There it is. 

It’s the image of Jisung using his soap and shampoo and sleeping in his bed, waking up next to him every morning with their toothbrushes clustered together in a cup, knowing that at the end of the day they’re guaranteed to come home to each other, that brings the question to the tip of Renjun’s tongue. He wants to say it, so badly, but something tells him not to ask yet. Something tells him to hold onto that hope as long as they can look forward to it later. 

So he swallows down the urge, crawls into bed, and tilts Jisung's chin up with a gentle hand and a soft smile. 

“You don’t have to, you know. I just thought it’d be easier for both of us.”

Jisung leans into his palm. “No, I’ll do it. You're usually right about this stuff, anyways.” 

“Yes, because I’m older.” Renjun laughs as he kisses Jisung’s cheek. “And wiser.” Kisses his lips, steals the breath right from Jisung's mouth. “‘M gonna shower, okay? Be right back.” 

Jisung waves a lazy hand after him, and Renjun scoops up sweatpants and a loose shirt from a pile of clean clothes on the floor—he’ll do the laundry later, it’s been a long week—before making his way to the bathroom.

When he steps out fifteen minutes later, towelling off his hair and shaking off the extra water, he shivers at the cool draft passing his feet in the hall. He makes a mental note to close the window soon. It’s a bit chilly tonight, which means—heater, probably, and cuddling, his favorite part (though he won’t admit it). Jisung is buried deep into his pillows when he gets back, fiddling with his phone and smiling a little to himself, but he looks up when Renjun enters. 

And keeps looking at him, wordlessly, even when Renjun climbs into bed beside him.

“What?” Renjun asks, reaching for Jisung’s phone. 

Jisung lets him open the camera to check himself out and take a selfie of both of them snuggled up against the pillows. It’s ugly, but Renjun still sends it to the group chat, if only because it makes Jisung laugh at the various emojis their friends send in response. Most of them are happy, like Jaemin spamming a dozen messages telling them how cute they are together, Chenle congratulating them with thinly veiled sarcasm, and Jeno sending a singular thumbs up of approval; then there’s Donghyuck, lovingly fake-gagging in the background. 

“What is it?” Renjun repeats afterwards, looking at Jisung curiously. “Do I have something on my face, or…” 

Jisung ducks his head and laughs as he takes his phone back. “It’s just—hyung, you’re so cute, you know that?” 

“Hmm. You say it every day…”

“Because it’s true,” Jisung insists, facing him with sparkling eyes. Renjun doesn’t know what to say to that. “And you’re pretty, hyung. So pretty, like—”

“Oh, god.” 

Renjun’s pretty sure he can’t handle anything else coming from Jisung’s mouth out of fear that his head might burst from embarrassment, so he shuts him up with a kiss. But a part of him instinctively softens in gratitude for the warmth in Jisung’s words. Jisung is free with his compliments, with the way he never hesitates to shower their friends or Renjun with encouragement; it’s just one of the ways he shows his affection and also one of the reasons why Renjun loves him. He’d never want Jisung to change. 

“You’re not so bad yourself.” 

Jisung smirks. “Yeah, I know.” 

He stretches out, all long arms and long legs and long torso that makes Renjun scrunch up his nose in distaste. It’s not the first time Jisung has taken up the whole bed—god knows how many times Renjun’s woken up to him draped over the covers possessively—so in retaliation, Renjun nudges away one of his arms and hogs all the blankets for himself. 

He can practically feel Jisung pouting behind him. 

“Hyung,” Jisung whispers, patting his shoulder gently. “Can we…”

Renjun tries not to laugh. It’s almost funny, how easily he’ll cave to Jisung’s simplest demands. 

He lifts the blankets and lets Jisung shift closer; lets him sneak his hands under Renjun’s shirt and rest them on his bare waist for warmth. Renjun can’t help but shiver at the cool palms on his skin even though he just took a shower. 

“Cold,” he whispers. There’s a quiet apology murmured into his ear in return. 

He doesn’t really mind it, though. He might put up an initial fuss, but—being Jisung’s personal heater once in a while has its own benefits, like getting to see a whole new vulnerable side of him that only comes out when they’re alone and seconds away from falling asleep. ( _Once in a while_ will eventually turn into _far too often_ , especially when Jisung thinks he’s asleep, but he’ll still pretend not to notice in the morning when Jisung wakes up before him and his hands gravitate towards Renjun’s waist again. 

“Cold,” Jisung will parrot back at him, even though he never makes eye contact while saying it and half of the time his hands aren’t even that cold.)

But it soothes Renjun, in an odd way. He gets used to it. 

It’s always easy to fall asleep with Jisung by his side. 

  
  
  


✧ ✧ ✧

  
  
  


And of course, Renjun can’t forget about the days that make everything worth it. 

It’s a late winter afternoon, somewhere in the middle of their holiday break, when they’re bickering about which restaurant to eat at later. Jisung eventually ends up agreeing to whatever Renjun’s choice will be, but Renjun still groans in exasperation afterwards and flops down on the couch. 

“You’re so annoying,” he says playfully, tugging Jisung onto his chest and making them both comfortable. Fondness seeps into his voice and he does absolutely nothing to stop it. He doesn’t do much to stop showing his affection, these days. Perhaps that’s why his next words are unplanned—although he’d never take them back for the world. “You’re lucky I love you.” 

Jisung freezes in his arms. It’s noticeable and tense, the way his whole body locks up, and Renjun grins. 

It’s cute. 

Strangely enough, saying it aloud doesn’t scare him. Maybe it should. But then again, there’s no point in being afraid when the truth is already there. When the adoration lacing the teasing tones of their voices is a dead giveaway, when their friends always tell them how they look at each other when they think no one else is watching. It only feels natural to tell Jisung what’s been on his mind for a while. 

Jisung remains silent for a few more moments before going completely slack in his arms. Renjun has to strain to hear the words that are being mumbled into his shirt. 

“What’s that?” 

Turning his head, the younger boy breathes out and closes his eyes. He looks peaceful, serene, in the golden light of the afternoon sun that sculpts his fine features with painstaking care. It highlights the small smile on his lips, makes Renjun’s fingers reflexively itch to paint him. 

He settles for cupping Jisung’s jaw instead and planting a kiss on his nose. 

“I said…” 

Jisung’s voice is soft, even if he’s not looking at Renjun. 

“…that I’ve always loved you.” 

And Renjun’s heart stutters a bit. 

It’s not that he didn’t expect it, but he knows Jisung. Knows that he isn’t the type of person to say cheesy things like this out of the blue. Also knows that once upon a time, back when they were younger and more foolish, the other boy would have rather jumped into a freezing lake than confessed his feelings to anyone, much less Renjun. 

But communication is something they’ve both been working on, because Renjun is hardly any better at this than Jisung is. How could he be? They spend most of their time joking around or teasing each other, so when Jisung says this, Renjun knows he’s serious. 

Well, that, and because all of their friends have already told him how Jisung feels. 

So his reply is simple. 

“I know.” 

Jisung laughs, a gentle puff of air on Renjun’s neck. His voice takes on the characteristic drowsy timbre that Renjun has automatically begun to associate with sleep, comfort. Home. 

“What is this, Star Wars? Are we Han and Leia?” 

“Mmhm. You know, it’s tiring, having to save your ass all the time—”

“Funny, hyung.”

“What?”

“Didn’t know you liked space _that_ much.” 

Renjun snorts. He places a good-natured hand over Jisung’s mouth, effectively silencing him, and smiles when an idea pops into his head. 

“I don’t like space as much as I like you,” he tells him in Chinese, honest for the sake of it. “So let me have this, won’t you?” 

It takes a few minutes for Jisung to respond, but when he does, his voice is almost inaudible, body gone boneless with relaxation as he nuzzles deeper into Renjun’s chest. “What does that mean…” 

Renjun thumbs at Jisung’s ear affectionately. “It means way to ruin the moment, Jisungie.” 

There’s no response, and he soon finds out why. 

Jisung’s asleep. 

It’s so reminiscent of old times that it fills Renjun’s chest with warmth. He looks out the window, watching the sun slowly sink into the skyline, and wonders what he’ll make for dinner later. Because he’s changed his mind, now. 

He wants to stay here with Jisung. 

**Author's Note:**

> still can’t believe i wrote a rensung bed selca and they delivered weeks later


End file.
